


Vol d'Art

by ChromeHoplite



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Foreplay, M/M, Revenge, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15836700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/pseuds/ChromeHoplite
Summary: Ciel gets off to Sebastian telling him how he slaughtered Funtom's competition





	Vol d'Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eienternity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eienternity/gifts).



> Written for an incredible artist on Tumblr. Check out @ciels-lingerie [here](https://ciels-lingerie.tumblr.com/)

It was half past twelve and Ciel was slumped over his office desk, behind towers of paperwork and an enormous house of cards. He looked as though he’d died. He felt as though he were on the verge of dying. He needed Cake. Or pastries. Even something nutritious like cheese and crackers would do right now. _Anything_. Sebastian was four minutes late with lunch and if he wasn’t here in the next minute he’d have to venture to the kitchen himself. 

From his left, he heard the large window open and felt a breeze and something distinctively demonic ease itself through. 

“I’m sorry for the delay, my lord. My errand took longer than I thought it might,” Sebastian apologized bowing so low he was nearly bent at a ninety degree angle. 

Ciel’s head came up from the cradle of his arms and peered at his butler. Initially, his eyes were narrowed with deepest loathing for having been kept waiting, but as he took in Sebastian’s appearance, they went wide. “Damn you, devil! What have you been doing for the past ten minutes that has you looking as though you’ve been to the slaughterhouse.” 

It wasn’t an exaggeration. From head to toe, the devil’s usually immaculate uniform was soaked in dark crimson. It was saturated in so much fluid that even the thick woolly-cotton of his jacket clung to his slender form. His hair, usually never out of place, neatly styled with the precision of a _prima donna_ , was matted to his face, and his shoes made a sloshing sound as he approached his master. Even his mouth, with red-stained full lips showed evidence of some kind of bloodied perversion. “Explain yourself, and hurry, I’m starving.” 

From behind his back, the butler revealed a Bitter Rabbit and placed it in front of his eighteen year old lord so that the boy’s face and the toy were at the same level. The plushie had been spared the carnage it seemed, save for the hand print where Sebastian had gripped it.

“What the hell are you on about, Sebastian?” 

“While you were sleeping last night, and I was tending to the mountain of mail you assigned me, I was tipped off by one of the letters, that a new toy business had popped up in the middle of the night,” Sebastian explained, taking his time to enunciate with an accent Ciel found laborious. He quite enjoyed seeing the little thing petulant and his hunger (poor starved adolescent had been fed only two hours ago) only enticed his rancor. 

“A competitor for Funtom?” Ciel stood, bunny in hand and strode to the front of his desk. The demon had his attention now, and he could forgive him the slight delay if what he had to say was of some import. 

Sebastian simpered, the sound was more menacing than pleased. “Hardly, my lord. Not one that you would need to worry about; after all, Funtom’s products are quality products, the best in all of England, and you know I cannot lie.” 

“Get on with it, I don’t see how this has anything to do with your macabre appearance. Do I need to give you another holiday? You know, Elizabeth will be arriving tomorrow and she will be more than happy to keep you company,” Ciel threatened, glad when his butler’s face fell momentarily. He wasn’t meant to notice, but after years together, he became quite acquainted with the demon’s tell-tale signs of distress… and pleasure. 

“No, surely not,” the demon huffed, a frisson of dread running through his human facade. “As I was saying, This company, Vol d’Art, is notorious for its imposters,” he nodded towards the stuffed rabbit, indicating that Ciel should examine it more closely. 

The earl took it in his hands, viewed it from all sides. The ears were exactly the length of his hand, its pinched expression impeccable, and when he gave it a hug, it felt as it should. “It’s a perfect replica, I don’t see…” 

“It is a perfect replica. For all intents and purposes, this is a Bitter Rabbit, my lord, but look at the tag near its bottom,” Sebastian said cooly, pushing the inky, wet strands from his face. 

“You think you’re being clever making me inspect its arse, don’t you demon?” Ciel chided. 

Sebastian shrugged and smirked. 

And there it was. The tag was different. It did not have the ornate letters that usually spelled out Funtom. Instead the scrawl (sloppy, if you asked him), was another’s name. It was so difficult to make out, they might as well not have put any name on it at all. “What the hell, Sebastian? Do they not know that this is theft? That eventually, they will get caught?” 

The butler pressed his lips together, “It seems not everyone is endowed with average intelligence, my lord.” 

“And so you… took care of it? This is why you lack presentability for your master?” Ciel asked, unceremoniously casting the bunny aside, and loosening the tie at his neck. 

“Indeed,” Sebastian sighed, catching a glimpse of the boy’s exposed collarbone as Ciel fingered the buttons of his shirt with some difficulty. Steam curl in whisps on his own uniform as the blood began evaporating. 

“Don’t!” Ciel ordered him, reaching out for Sebastian’s still wet sleeve. “Leave it, come tell me how many, what you did…” he crooned, a cruel smile spreading across his face, his hunger long forgotten. 

Sebastian stepped closer, pushed Ciel up against the desk, so that the boy’s rear was pinned against it. The house of cards fell and the papers were disturbed. His gloved hands took over in unfastening the buttons of the shirt and leaving blood streaked along the flawless white fabric. “I attended their distribution meeting this morning,” he breathed against the shell of Ciel’s ear, tickling the tiny hairs there, “there were eleven present in the saloon where it was held.” 

Ciel hummed, he was paying attention, hung on every word as though Sebastian was feeding him the cake he’d fantasized about some minutes ago. His own hands wandered over the taut belly of his butler, landing on the waistband and thumbing it teasingly. “Yes…”

“I didn’t bother introducing myself, I simply sat, and listened for two minutes to confirm that I was indeed in the company of thieves.” He shucked off Ciel’s shirt, and as his own fly was pulled harshly down, so too did Ciel’s fall, as did his trousers. He hitched the boy up on the desk and positioned himself between his legs. 

With every inch of Sebastian touching him, Ciel’s skin was painted red. His body resembled a Rorschach test with thick inkblots on his chest, the side of his face, arms, thighs. “What did you do first?” His voice asked unsteady. 

Sebastian licked the now sticky substance off his master’s face, where his hair had left its mark. He smacked his lips and wet them as he explained, “The secretary first. She lost her head.” He sucked marks into the earl’s neck, the bruises and bitemarks complimenting the streaks of someone else’s essence. He was encouraged by Ciel’s moan when his demon’s stiffness brushed up against the boy’s. “Two lackeys were next, they were in the way, really. I felt their hearts beat in my hands when they penetrated their chests.” 

Ciel’s small hand sought their cocks and stroked them together, throwing his head back as the butler assaulted his throat, sharp tongue lashing against his sensitive skin. “Yeah… and…” 

Sebastian pulled back and spit on their lengths, the lubricant increasing the earl’s pace and pulling from him the most sinful sounds, better than the begging and crying he’d heard in the room where the massacre took place. He returned to the mared flesh of his master, taking a peaked nipple between his teeth and worrying it gently before rolling his tongue over it. “Four executives next,” he panted, gloved hand coming up to show Ciel, “I’m afraid to say my true form might have emerged somewhat when they were maimed. The blood shot out of them some distance. Splattered the walls and table, most regretfully.”

“Nngh… Sebastian,” Ciel whined releasing them and bringing the butler’s hand to his mouth. His tongue traced the tears along the tips of the fingers where his devil’s talons had broken through, razor sharp and nicking his own tongue. Sebastian smelled it immediately. Went rigid where he stood and his eyes became possessed of the kind of glow animals have in the dark. Ciel barely managed to rip off the butler’s glove with his teeth before Sebastian’s mouth was hard on his. The wet muscle forced itself in, licking the heat inside and the sweet and salty substance oozing from his cut. 

Sebastian groaned an inhuman sound and took himself in hand, sliding his slick girth up and down along Ciel’s puckered entrance, teasing him, as if the little imp wasn’t already excited. He felt Ciel’s hole twitch against the head of his cock, eager to be filled. “Two investors were flung to the ceiling, pinned there by butter knives, my lord,” it was hard to keep focused on the events of the meeting when he just wanted to bury himself, to fuck his tainted little master, aroused by blood and gore and vengeance. He was perfect. Tasted perfect. Felt perfect. “They rained down from above as they cried.” 

“Ah… S-Sebastian… fill me… raw...” he begged, two of the demon’s fingers in his mouth, drool seeping from the sides as he chewed, and sucked and reveled in the taste of his foes at the tips of the butler’s digits. “T-two left… how?” he mewled. 

Spitting into his free hand, Sebastian pumped his cock a few time and led it to Ciel’s entrance. He pushed the tip in, hands trembling, worked up by his master’s insistence to be hurt, to hear about the hurt of others. He felt the bite of Ciel’s teeth dig into his human flesh. “The assistant, bless his soul,” he said through gritted teeth as he pushed slowly into Ciel, “tried to defend the CEO. Tried to shield him.” Ciel cried out and when Sebastian stilled, the boy wrapped his legs around his butler and dug his heels into the demon’s back. The demon was half inside when he began thrusting shallowly. Ciel’s soiled face broke out into a sweat and his mouth went slack. 

“Yes… yes…” the earl encouraged, “w-what did he do?” 

Sebastian pushed the boy onto his back and held him by his hips, guiding, impaling him deeper. “They say the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, my lord. I took him by the arms and tore him in two.” He growled as he bottomed out and started fucking Ciel in earnest, dick pumping in and out of him, the tails of his jacket slapping wet with blood against the large desk as he did so. He was already so close. So enamored by his vicious master. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” Ciel’s toes curled behind his butler, his back arched off the desk and he fisted himself savagely. The burn between his cheeks was searing, hot. He tightened around the beast, screaming for him, begging for him to continue his story, to not stop. One more. One more. He wouldn’t be able to hold off spending at this rate. 

Sebastian fell over Ciel, drenched shirt, rubbing against the boy’s sensitive nipples as he moved against him, forcing the desk to scratch against the floor with every hard thrust. His cock was pulsing, growing, his need was cresting. Harder. Harder. He whispered about the CEO’s demise in Ciel’s studded ear and when the scent of Ciel’s orgasm filled his flared nostrils, he filled the boy.


End file.
